


Nothing is as it seems

by insanityintensifies



Series: Bonus (nsfw) Snippets from the Stripper AU [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Bondage, Caning, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Violence, there are a lot of tears in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5757415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanityintensifies/pseuds/insanityintensifies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heed the tags. This is not like the other two installments I posted for this AU. </p><p>Mairon touches himself, which is against the rules. Melkor catches him red handed. A punishment will follow.<br/>And yet once he positioned himself something happens to Mairon he never thought would happen to him. Not with Melkor, not like this, never like this.</p><p>I don't want to say more, because it would spoiler the ending?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Terror of the Night

Mairon’s eyes shoot open when he hears Melkor clear his throat somewhere close to him. As if burned he lets go of his arousal, guilt immediately crashing down over him. It isn’t only the knowledge that he has broken a rule, and one of the most important ones at that, but also the look on his Master’s face that causes his chest to tighten and a knot to build up in his throat.

When Melkor turns around wordlessly and beckons him to follow by a wave of his hand the younger man does so immediately, leaving his towel behind on the bed. He keeps his eyes cast to the floor while they walked through the big house and only looks up once Melkor stepped to the left, leaving Mairon standing in front of a dark wooden desk in an otherwise almost completely empty room.

He had seen each and every one of the rooms in his Master’s house, but of course there were some the two of them frequented more often than others. In fact Mairon is sure he hasn’t been in this room ever since the older man had shown it to him. A voice behind him rips him out of his thoughts, “Bend over with your arms spread over the table.”

The submissive complies immediately and without the slightest hint of hesitation. He knows he has earned whatever punishment is to come. The smooth surface of the table rests cold against his skin and he is sizzling with anticipation. To his own dismay he notices that he doesn't know if he would be happier about a cock on his entrance or a hand on his ass, promising a spanking.

"Hold him down." The command comes from Melkor and Mairon's stomach clenches in surprise and fear. He tries to stand up from this undignified position, but he is immediately pressed back down. There are hands on his body, many hands, far too many hands for his liking. Four on each leg, pulling them apart, two on each arm, holding them spread and pressed useless on the table. Two on his hips, moving circles with their thumbs against his skin. He wants to speak, to demand that they shall let go of him, but he can't, his throat is tight with fear.

Nobody is saying a word, all movements still until the only thing he can hear is his own ragged breathing. Then the contact to his hips is broken. He can hear footsteps and somebody crouches down in front of him. A hand on his chin forces him to lift his head, to meet his Master’s eyes. "This is what you wanted, little one, is it not?" The question causes another wave of horror to crush down on him and he shakes his head vehemently. How could Melkor think he would want this?

Sure, he had mentioned that he was curious as to what it would feel like, but hadn't he also said that he didn't know anyone he trusted enough to include them? And now there were six other people here with them, touching him, people he couldn't even see. Tears are welling up in his eyes as he tries to find his voice to tell Melkor that he doesn't want this, not like this, never like this, but his Master simply ignores his submissive's terrified expression.

"I’ll tell you how this will go, _little one_. At first I will prepare you and fuck you nice and open with my fingers, and then I will take you while you suck each and every other person in this room off until they have all spend themselves down your throat. And since this is also a punishment for touching yourself without permission there will be a rope tied nice and tight around your little greedy cock and balls so you won't come. Understood?"

As if it's an instinct he nods and a satisfied smirk graces Melkor's face. It makes Mairon feel sick, almost more than the others explanation and he is shaking his head again, but his Master only laughs. It's a short and cold laugh that causes all of Mairon's hair to stand up. Melkor pats his cheek, then stands up and rounds the table again.

In a helpless cry of desperation Mairon finally manages to speak, his voice is hoarse and strained as if he had already been screaming for hours, " _Master_! “ The response he gets is immediate, a hard slap with his Masters belt the older man had just taken off, and over his ass that has him jolting on the table.

"Not one word, little one." He is instructed as one slick finger breaches him. The slight burn isn't what makes it extremely uncomfortable; it's the seven pairs of eyes watching every movement of the finger that's sliding in and out of his most intimate opening. When the older man adds a second finger and brushes both of them over his prostate a sob wrenches from his throat from the sheer humiliation of it and for the fact that he is still enjoying it, that he is still growing even harder under the table. Somebody laughs and Mairon would give everything to be swallowed by the earth herself.

Instead he's stretched open, fingered until a third finger joins the others, scissoring and opening him. When Melkor adds a fourth finger and pumps all of them in and out of him rhythmically, a moan leaves the younger man's lips before he can hold it back. "So you do enjoy it." Is the comment from his Master. His cheeks are burning, but even in his embarrassment he wants to spat back, wants to make a comment that his body is enjoying it, not he himself, and his body is only enjoying it because Melkor knows how to press all his buttons.

He isn't expected to reply and before he fully registers it the fingers are gone and his muscles are contracting around thin air and as horrible as the situation is he longs to be filled again. And he hates himself for it. His unspoken wish is fulfilled not even a minute later. He can hear a zipper being opened and then the slick sound of an erection being coated in lube. The warm head of his Master's member presses against his entrance and without a warning he pushes into him, bottoming out in one hard thrust and it's all Mairon can do not to scream. He would be worried that it is someone else penetrating him, but the twelve hands on him have not left their positions and on top of that he knows no one who can match his Master in width, length and girth.

He can hear his Master say something but in the daze following the mixture of pain and pleasure as he was filled he can't make sense of the words. That is until the first pair of hands is replaced by rope that binds him tightly to the table. Then the next and the next, until he's completely immobilized.

Melkor doesn't move inside him until the first person steps in front of Mairon, a long, thin, black cock in hand that is nudged against his lips. With a sick feeling he turns his head away, but his Master grabs his hair and yanks his head up and back into position. Yet he still refuses to open his mouth, shaking his head as much as he can. His hair is given into the hands of someone else and his Master pulls out of him, causing him to whine in protest. A sound he could have slapped himself for.

When Melkor steps into his view he is carrying a spider gag and Mairon's eyes go wide. He tries to shake his head, but the hand in his hair grows tighter and it feels as if his hair would be ripped out if he would move his head again. The older man grabs his face by his cheeks with one hand and presses against just the right spots to pry his jaw apart.

With tears in his eyes there is nothing Mairon can do to stop the gag being forced inside his mouth and closed behind his head. It's holding his mouth uncomfortably wide open, saliva is already drooling down his chin and dripping to the floor beneath him, only adding to his humiliation. He knows there is no chance to escape his fate anymore; the tears building in his eye are now rolling down his cheeks.  Melkor strokes his temple affectionately and it makes him feel only sicker.

Then his Master leans down until his lips are almost touching his ear and whispers, so that only Mairon can hear him: "You have just made it worse for yourself. If you want any chances of being able to move after this is over, you will swallow everything. One drop of sperm dripping to the floor or you vomiting will result in a punishment after which your ass won't be the only bruised part of your body." His words cause Mairon to shudder and he is not only disgusted, but genuinely afraid. More than afraid, he is terrified.

Shortly after that he can feel warmth behind him and once again Melkor pushes into him, only this time he begins to fuck him immediately, setting a slow rhythm while the black cock is again pushed against his lips, only this time they're not building a barrier. The head is dragged over his tongue and he can taste the precome of the stranger, it's not much different in taste than Melkor's, earthy and salty, but it's lacking the distinct sweetness. The man takes his time to fuck his mouth, pushing in further with every thrust of his hips.

Mairon can feel another tug at his hair and he assumes that now his Master is in full control of his body again and it makes him sick that that makes him feel better. Suddenly the dick in his mouth is pushed all the way in until his nose is pressed against the dark and hairless pelvis. He is used to a thicker invasion and he doesn't even gag. Still the stranger is using slow thrusts, but he is fucking the tightness of his throat now and it doesn't take long until he releases himself deep inside him with a groan. Mairon swallows everything, but shudders in disgust.

When the stranger pulls out Melkor slams into him with brutal force, just once, but perfectly aimed. He slides along his submissive's prostate and Mairon keens out, unable to stop the sound. Afterwards Melkor resumes his slow rhythm while the next unknown dick presents itself. It's short, but about as thick as his Master's, it belongs to a man whose body has the same proportions, short and thick. Mairon can't see his face, he is wearing a mask like the rest of them, but he can see that he's sweating already; the light brown hair of his pubes is sticking to the caramel skin.

The taste that fills his mouth when the second stranger’s cock is pushed inside him makes him gag, what _on earth_ had that man been eating? A hard slap lands on his left cheek, a warning from his Master.

This one doesn't take his time; he pushes himself in to the hilt and begins to thrust vigorously. It takes Mairon all he has not to gag again as his nose is pressed against the sticky skin and hair of the fat man’s pelvis. Luckily it's over very fast; he doesn't even last three minutes.

When he releases himself with a grunt that sounds like that of a pig Mairon is almost glad that it's deep enough inside him that he doesn't have to taste most of it. He has no time to recover, Melkor slams into him again, but this time the noise he makes is muffled by the next cock that is already pushed inside his mouth.

This time he doesn't even look. He closes his eyes and prays that it's over soon. This one doesn't taste as disgusting as the last, but the curls on his pelvis tickle Mairon's nose. After a few minutes he releases himself with a groan and pulls out. The same reaction as before comes from Melkor and suddenly he understands, the stimulation is his reward for obeying, for letting these strangers fuck his mouth and throat, for swallowing their release like... "Like the cumslut you are." his Master finishes his thoughts with a growl.

Is that all he is to him? He wonders and it hurts more than the humiliation of being used like a fucktoy by people he has never seen before. Is that really all he is to the man he loves like he has never loved anyone befo.... He can't finish his thoughts as another cock thrusts up inside him mouth, about average in length, but thick, even thicker than Melkor's and immediately his gag reflex is triggered. He coughs and gags around the length, but the stranger stands perfectly still as not to make it worse.

Once he has calmed down a bit two slaps land on his reddening ass, both hits have him rocking forward and bury the thick length further in his throat. This one is the first that makes more noises than just a groan, he moans as he pulls back out and again as he pushes back in, fucking Mairon's throat in the same rhythm that Melkor fucks his ass and it almost feels good. The strangers moans arouse him even though he doesn't want them to and when the thick cock is finally buried inside his throat completely he can smell the distinct smell of... roses _?_ in the others short blonde pubic hair.

When the other stops moving, panting and simply revelling in the feeling of Mairon's hot and tight throat around him, he begins to lick at the underside of the strangers dick, simply because that is what his Master enjoys in that position. The response is a low moan and a shiver that runs through the stranger and even though he shouldn't like it, because he has been forced into this, because he is being filled against his will, he repeats the action. It's enough to push the other over the edge, but even as he pulls out Mairon licks at him, to prevent any cum to drip to the floor, he tells himself.

He is again rewarded by a thrust to his prostate and then the next cock is lined up with his mouth. Average in length and thickness, but in contrast to the others this latte-coloured penis is still covered with a foreskin. Its owner gently rolls it back to reveal a darker brown head, glistening with precome. It's sat down in his mouth, on his tongue, without movement. He can taste onions and shudders again. After a few seconds in which the only movements in the room are coming from Melkor who is still fucking his rear in a slow rhythm and with persistence Mairon can only admire him for, even in this situation. Another slap landed on his ass, harder than any of the previous ones; it knocks the air right out of his lungs and if it hadn't been for the gag he would've closed his mouth in reflex. The only explanation he gets comes in the form of a command, " _Lick_!"

For a moment he wants to refuse, it tastes disgusting and there is no reason for him to, he doesn't want this, he never asked for it, but then he remembers his Master's words, the threat that is still hanging in the air and he begins to lick at the head of the member in his mouth. He lavishes it with his tongue, circles it, flicks it over the slit, does everything he can to get him off, but he still shudders every time. When he can see the stranger's balls tightening, he knows he's close; he tries to sink his head lower, to urge him further in so he doesn't have to taste it, but Melkor holds his head in place and delivers another hit to his bottom and the stranger doesn't move either.

His sperm fills Mairon's mouth; hot spurts coat his tongue and teeth and even reach the back of his throat. It tastes so much of onions and it's so utterly disgusting to him, that this stranger had filled his mouth like this, that he is sure he has to vomit. Yet another tug on his hair reminds him of the price he would have to pay for that and he swallows, gagging afterwards and shuddering from the horrible taste.

"One more to go, little one." His Master reminds him as he slams into him again. The cock that is now brought to his mouth obviously belongs to a bodybuilder. His legs are muscled and the veins on his pelvis stand out. He is hairless as well, but his cock is long, longer than Melkor’s and Mairon knows he has never had anything further down his throat. To his surprise his Master lets go of his hair, but before his head can slump forward the other man grabs it and holds it in strong hands. He pushes inside Mairon, no precome, but a lot of Mairon's drool easing the way.

Immediately he sets a fierce rhythm, fucking his mouth and throat in earnest. In his ass Melkor picks up his pace as well, matching the strangers. A hand closes around his cock and he feels rope being tied in place. It's so tight it almost hurts; climaxing is completely out of the question like this. Melkor jams against his prostate and Mairon can't help but moan, which spurs the man fucking his throat to increase his pace even more, until his pounding into him violently.

Melkor mimics the pace and as Mairon manages to open his eyes again, which had fallen shut with the constant stimulus on his prostate, he can see the cock ring around the last stranger’s member and everything falls into place. Melkor has planned all of this, the ways he had to suck off the men, the order in which he had to do it and it wouldn't surprise him if the last one is only able to keep this up because Melkor has taken precautions to stop him from coming right away.

His musings are affirmed when the other man moans a strained "Please, Master?".

All of Mairon's innards seem to freeze. _Master_?!? Did he just...? Now he feels like vomiting more than ever before and he starts crying, the only thing he can do in this position to voice the feeling of betrayal that is spreading through him. How could he have been so stupid and think he was the only one who had ever gone that far with Melkor? All the insisting on calling him "Sir" instead of "Master" in the beginning, because it was "less intimate" was only a lie, something to comfort him about the casualness of it all. How could he have ever let himself believe that he was more than just a fucktoy to the older man? Did the others also…

Again he is cut short by a perfectly aimed thrust to his prostate and a hard strike the lands at the same time. Melkor's "Yes, you can." is almost swallowed my Mairon's scream.

The stranger unlocks the cock ring and it only takes three hard thrusts into his mouth until he, too, releases himself down his throat. Melkor continues to slam into him, now hitting his prostate with every thrust. Mairon's is crying; his head is hanging down over the edge of the table with no one holding it up anymore. He can see his Masters legs and notices that he hasn't even taken down his trousers to fuck him. As if Melkor had been waiting for this realization to kick in he picks up his pace even more, something Mairon hadn't thought to even be possible. It continues like this for a few minutes: Melkor pounding into him, Mairon's sobs only interrupted by his screams when Melkor hits his prostate, until the older man finally, finally releases inside him and pulls out.

With Melkor's incredible self-control he just wipes himself clean and stuffs it back into his pants while Mairon is shivering on the table. But instead of being untied, he feels something ghost over the reddened skin of his butt.

Before he has any time to realize it, to prepare himself for it, the hard hit of a cane echoes through the room followed by a yelp of the younger man. The incredible sting of the cane is intensified by his already abused skin. Another hit lands and again he yelps, jolting against the table and whimpering as he can feel a welt form on his rear. Melkor doesn't hold back in strength and the third strike already has him screaming. Again and again the stronger man hits him until his ass is littered in welts, some dark red, others already purpling. He has lost count on how many times he was hit when Melkor finally stops, only to knead the bruised flesh of his backside.

Mairon is nothing more than a sobbing mess when Melkor takes out his gag. "Now thank our guests for filling you up so nicely." the older man commands and when Mairon doesn't immediately comply he strikes him across the burning flesh of his rear again, tearing another scream from the submissive's throat. "T-thank you for filling m-me up." He sobs; his voice barely louder than a whisper. Another strike, another scream. "What was that, little one? I'm afraid we didn't hear you." "Thank you for filling me up!" Mairon repeats, he almost yells it, his insides burning with more humiliation that ever before and he sobs pitifully while his master unties him.

He can hear six pairs of feet leaving the room, followed by two more, when Melkor escorts the men out of the house. Mairon wants to move, to get off the table, to run away as fast and far as he can, but none of his muscles seem to obey him, his jaw hurts from being held open unnaturally wide, his butt hurts from the hard fucking, the skin of it is burning with the bruises the cane has left and he feels sick, his still prominent erection straining against the rope only makes it worse and he's sobbing, the tears dripping down to the floor, mixing with the puddle of drool and he can't bear to look at it. Melkor's release is dripping humiliatingly down his leg and it feels like he can feel every load the men have shot down his throat rummaging inside his stomach.

"Fucked out is a good look on you" he hadn't noticed his Ma... Melkor enter the room again, but his words cut bone deep. His voice is so nonchalant; as if he did not just rape him together with six other men. "I should keep you this way." Another hard strike lands on his backside and the slightly subsided pain flares back up tenfold. Melkor laughs about the yell it tears from the younger man and he turns to leave again, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind himself, leaving Mairon in complete darkness.

After a few minutes -or hours?- of crying Mairon finally manages to pull himself off the table, but immediately his legs give in and he falls to the floor. He can feel the puddle of cum now sticking to his back and another heart wrenching sob is torn from his chest. He remains there, on the floor, in the darkness, with come, drool and tears drying on his skin until...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahaha would I break of here? Yes, I would.
> 
> I mentioned that I had a lot of angst in my head in the last days?  
> I started this ages ago, but finally finished it tonight.
> 
> Comments are, as always, highly appreciated. :)
> 
>  
> 
> These characters, unfortunatly, don't belong to me. All rights go to J. R. R. Tolkien.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This changes everything.

"Mairon!" Someone is calling his name. " _MAIRON!_ " It's louder this time. He can feel a distinct pain flaring up on his right cheek, but it's so far away. " ** _MAIRON!_** " The voice calls him again and he gets the feeling he knows that voice, or even the person it belongs to? But he is alone; there is nobody here with him. He is alone with his pain and misery, not even Melkor...

That voice... He is suddenly sure that that voice belongs to him and panic grips him anew.

He tries to get up, to get away, but something is trapping his legs.

He screams.

The next thing he knows is that something cold and wet hits his face, lots of it, and finally he jolts awake, sitting up immediately. The room he is in isn’t dark and he has to blink against the blinding light. After a few seconds he notices that the room is their bedroom and he's lying in bed, Melkor kneeling over his legs with an empty bowl in his hands and a worried expression on his face. "Y- _you_..." Mairon stutters, sitting up and trying to fight himself free. Only when he sets his hands down on the mattress him push himself backwards he notices that not only the bed is soaking wet, but he himself is as well. That was what had been in the now empty bowl in Melkor's hands. That was what had been dumped over his head. Ice cold water. What was the other even playing at?

"Mairon?" the older man begins, leaning forward and reaching out with his hand, "Are you o..."  "Don't touch me! _Get. Away. From. Me._ " He has to speak very slowly and deliberate to keep himself from sounding hysteric. Any other time the look on the others face would have caused him to relent, to give in; he has never seen Melkor so hurt or so worried before, but not today. 'After what he has done to me he has no right, absolutely no right to feel hurt.' he thinks.

" ** _Get away from me!_** " He is almost yelling now, and finally Melkor moves, "You had a nightmare. Whatever you think happened was not real." but Mairon doesn't believe him; he would say that, wouldn't he?

To manipulate him.

He scrambles back, up to the headboard, pulling his legs to his chest, before rolling to the side and climbing off the bed. Backing away from Melkor, never turning his back to him, he tries to get to the door, but when he turns around to find the handle, he catches a glimpse of his back in the mirror and freezes. As if he's in trance he lets go of the handle and takes a few steps towards the mirror, looking into it over his shoulder, staring at his backside. It's pale, freckled and completely unhurt. His whole body is, except for his right cheek that looks a little reddened over his cheekbone. Slowly he reaches up to trace along it, almost missing the apologetic, "I tried to wake you up and after yelling didn't work..." coming from behind him.

So it all had just been a nightmare? But it had felt so _real_... Slowly his hand reaches down and his fingertips trail over the soft skin of his bottom. The mirror provides him with all the proof he needs to see and another sob wrenches from his throat, a mixture of relief and worry building in his chest. Relief that apparently it was all just a dream and worry that he has pushed the other away by unreasonable behaviour, that he had lost the one person he loved just because of a stupid dream.

 

After all the emotional turmoil his nightmare had already caused him this simple thought alone is already too much to bear and he breaks down crying in front of the mirror. Sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chin and his arms wrapped around himself and sobbing uncontrollably. Only a few seconds later however a blanket is wrapped around him and Melkor kneels down next to him on the floor, pulling the smaller man to his broad chest in a tight embrace.

Turning to the side he buries his face in the crook of Melkor's neck, breathing in the scent of the older man deeply and letting himself be calmed by it and the protective hold around him, until his breathing becomes more even and the heart wrenching sobs are replaced by only silent tears.

"Tell me what happened." It's not a question, but it's not an order either; he could get out of this if he wanted. But he doesn't. He knows he has to talk about it or it will haunt him forever. And if there is any person who could comfort him, it's Melkor, so he starts to talk. His voice is very quiet, but steady, until he reaches the part where the other man called Melkor "Master", there his throat tightens again and can feel more tears welling up. He continues to talk until he has told him everything, except for the delicate questions he had asked himself in the dream, and he ends his explanations with Melkor's voice calling him back into reality.

"It was all so _real_ , it was so _disgusting_ and it _hurt_ so much, not only physically, and when I woke up and felt that my legs were trapped I panicked and... I didn't mean to yell at you, or push you away. I... I'm so sorry..." The last sentence is interrupted by another sob and again he is crying against the others chest, although this time out of sheer relief that Melkor is still holding him close and not pushing him away, that Melkor is rubbing soothing circles over his back to help him relax again.

Once he has calmed down the older man gently pushes him from his chest by his shoulders, "Listen to me, Mairon, you do _not_ have to be sorry, your reaction was natural and I understand." Slowly the taller man's large hands trail from his shoulders up his neck and then come to a rest cupping his face. He locks his gaze with Melkor's and the slight hint of distress he can see in the other’s eyes causes his heart to leap in his chest.

Both of them decide to go for a kiss at the same time, the taller man pulling the younger one closer and the smaller one pressing himself closer until their lips meet. It's a slow kiss, slow but deep and meaningful. Their tongues slide against each other, but there is no claiming this time, no teeth nipping at lips, just a long and sensual kiss, until they have to break apart again.

Melkor's hands are still holding his face and he sounds more serious than Mairon has ever heard him as he looks him deep into his eyes and promises, " _Never_ , little one. I would _never_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cruel, but I'm not THAT cruel. So here was the resolve of the previous cliffhanger.
> 
> Comments are, as always, highly appreciated. :)
> 
>  
> 
> These characters, unfortunatly, don't belong to me. All rights go to J. R. R. Tolkien.

**Author's Note:**

> These characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and I make no money with this.
> 
> Find me on tumblr! [@insanityintensifies](https://insanityintensifies.tumblr.com/)


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